Secrets of a Book.

Some things are meant to stay hidden.

Three days ago, in the basement of my newly purchased home, I found a collection of books. They were bound in a strange covering, something I had never seen before. The covers of the books were unremarkable. The books contained no title or author, only a number on each book that seemed to indicate the order in which they were written. The pages themselves were yellowed, as if they were many years old.

 

Interested in my find, I began to read. Each page was handwritten in a jerky script, as if the author was spending the last vestiges of his energy to write them. The first book seemed to be a fantasy or religious book. It described what Demons were and where they came from. The second book was full of strange drawings and diagrams, each crude drawing accompanied by ritual-like text.

 

The third book described exactly what each of the "rituals" would summon. Demons of every shape and size were described. It repeatedly warned not to actually attempt the "rituals". Of course, I decided that a little occult and witchcraft never hurt anyone. I found a ritual that would summon, according to the text, a "small, imp-like demon".

 

I never actually thought it would work. I drew the ritual circle on the floor of my basement and began to recite the words. I won't repeat them here. With a drop of my blood in the center, I completed the ritual. A flash of light nearly blinded me. When I recovered, it was there. The ritual worked. I dropped to my knees and began to examine the small demon-creature closely. When my face was inches from the demon, it lunged at me.

 

I awoke several hours later, the demon was gone. I felt my body move. I wasn't in control of it. As my eyes roamed the basement, I wanted to vomit. Every surface was covered in ancient script. The last book had said this was the "ritual" used to open a gateway to allow demons to cross at will.

 

I fought against my captor. It was useless. The demon has an iron grip over my body. It taunted me and allowed me use of my fingers. It is watching, amused, as I scrawl this out on loose paper. I pray that I am forgiven.

Author's Note

Written in about twenty minutes, based off of an idea I've had floating in my head for the past few weeks. This is my first attempt at writing for pleasure in almost six or seven years. I encourage all forms of constructive criticism.